Bad Penny
by Seanchaidh
Summary: You know that saying about the bad penny that always turns up... Third installment in my Primeval series, following on from Mirror, Mirror and Off The Wall. Cutter is left reeling from Helen's revelation, but can the team cope without him?
1. Chapter 1

**Bad Penny**

**Sequel to Off The Wall**

**Chapter 1**

Sir James Lester was having a bad day.

There were no particular reasons for it being a bad day, it just was. Nothing seemed to be going right.

The geeks had broken a bit off their new toy and were now having to reorder the one piece they'd had to order in from abroad. The nutty professor was nuttier than usual, but at least he was being quiet about it. Lizard girl and the she-geek had been having a blazing row for half of the day so far, and it was only lunch time. What was worse, Becker had disappeared off with half his men to investigate a new anomaly and had neglected to take the boy wonder and his cronies with him. Now, to cap it all, there was tuna on his sandwiches. He hated tuna! All because he forgot one silly anniversary! It wasn't even as if it was his wedding anniversary: it was the anniversary of their first date, or first kiss or something. Didn't his wife realise he had slightly more important things to worry about? But she wouldn't talk about it. Oh no, never that. And so there was tuna.

James Lester threw his sandwiches in the bin, got up and headed in the direction of the canteen. As he left his office he passed a random secretary.

"Get someone to empty that bin, will you," he muttered, waving a hand in the direction of the offending article. "It stinks."

Once Lester's back was safely turned and disappearing, the secretary peeked a head into the office and glanced at the contents of the bin. It was empty with the exception of one small, forlorn, tinfoil wrapped package. The secretary frowned, picked up the package and threw it in the waste bin of the office next door. She walked on, more concerned with her own troublesome life, and the choices she would have to make at the hairdressers this Saturday, than with Sir James Lester's abhorrence of tinfoil packages.

XXXX

"Come on, Professor," Connor sighed, glancing over his shoulder at the door to Nick's office. "We need you here properly! Not just sitting staring into space!"

Nick stared blankly at the wall opposite. Connor didn't wave a hand in front of Nick's face: he'd tried that two weeks ago when they brought him back through the Triassic anomaly. It hadn't made any difference then and it wouldn't now. He had to keep trying, though: keep talking. For one thing, it seemed that Nick was the only person he could talk to without fear of putting his foot in it, or at least getting the backlash from putting his foot in it.

For the past two weeks, since they had returned from Cornwall, Nick Cutter had sat in his office staring into space. He hadn't moved, not that they'd noticed. He hadn't gone home. They'd been too concerned they'd never see him again if they'd taken him there themselves. He hadn't eaten, slept, drank or anything. Well, he might have slept, Connor thought: there wasn't someone watching him all night as well as all day.

The thing with the ARC was that there was everything there: beds, showers, kitchens. Whatever they needed, they had. Connor often wondered if someone had been considering the possibility of a siege when the place was built!

He cleared his throat and tried again.

"Look, Professor," he began. "I know it's been rough, these past few months. What with losing Stephen like that, and now Jenny disappearing. But we really need you here. I can't run this thing! Lester: he does the management side and all that, and Becker's good for the catching them and so on, but when that's done, they look to me to find out what they are and what to do with them. I'm the one they come to now for all the science stuff. I was fine when it was just computers and dinosaurs, but now! Now it's like the fate of the world rests on my shoulders and I haven't got a clue what's going on!

Come on, Professor: I can't manage my own ironing, never mind this place! I've got Abby sulking because everyone comes to me, not her; Nigel's besotted with his new version of the imploder; Peta keeps trying to talk to me about what's going on with that and every time she does, she ends up in an argument with Abby! I can't do this! It's too much! I'm not supposed to be the leader: I'm the accident prone one! The one who can't handle a gun! The one who shoots people in the leg with tranquillisers! The one gets conned by some woman working for a madman! If anyone should be taking a holiday from reality, it should be me: not you. At least you can actually do this job!"

XXXX

Becker and his men surrounded the small pool. It was just a hot tub actually. The owner had spotted something odd in it and had called the RSPCA. Luckily, all calls that may in any way, shape or form be linked to an anomaly were monitored and this one had been picked up quickly.

The anomaly itself had not been sighted. That was definite. The owner of the hot tub had no idea how the creature had managed to get where it was. He had just gone to switch it on and there it was, swimming quite happily round in circles.

It was still swimming happily round in circles, but Becker had no idea what it was, so there were currently half a dozen rifles following it round in circles. Even Becker was starting to get dizzy by the time someone brought a net!

It took another half hour to get the thing out and into the large goldfish bowl that their host had kindly provided, but up close it was clear that it was definitely more than just a large goldfish. It was a dull grey for starters and instead of scales it seemed to have some kind of armour plating.

"Let's see if this brings Cutter out of his trance," Becker muttered as they transferred their new find to the back of the land rover. A fresh-faced recruit looked up in horror as the bowl was placed in his lap.

"Why do I have to hold it, sir?"

"Just do it, Simmons!" Becker replied. "It's only a fish!"

XXXX

Mrs Trescothyck peered out between her kitchen curtains. That was the fourth lorry going along that road today. It was all very well asking if they could use her land to turn in, but what they were doing with their cargo was just plain odd.

The trucks stopped at the top of the gully and turned into her field, by the old barn that those nice people from the government had stayed in. Men in military uniforms unloaded large crates and boxes and disappeared down into the gully with them. Once the truck was empty, it would turn, disappear back up the road and return some hours later with another cargo. At least, well, she wasn't sure now: was it the same lorry or four different ones? They all looked so alike, you see.

Rumour had it that they were building down at the old Chenery place at the bottom of the valley. It certainly looked like there was something going on there. Why they would want to build anything down there was a mystery to Mrs Trescothyck. It was powerful difficult to get down there on foot, never mind carrying a big crate of whatever with you, even if you did have help.

Mrs Trescothyck tutted. She hadn't minded them at first: they'd got rid of whatever had taken her chickens and that young girl in charge had been ever so lovely to her. She'd felt sorry for them when the other young girl had turned up to tell her that her friend had been rushed to hospital and she would be collecting both their belongings. It was a shame they'd all had to leave so suddenly without really saying goodbye, or thank you, but she could understand it if someone had been hurt and they did all look very upset about it.

These men with their lorries and their boxes, now: they were different. Never a word to her. In and out at all times of the day and night. Churning up the mud in her low field. She sighed and tutted again, then turned away from the window. Ah well: she had work of her own to be getting on with and she didn't have teams of fine strapping young men to do it for her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Rex? Re-ex?" Abby scanned the rafters for the mischievous coelurosauravus. She had shelled out a bit on his favourite fruits and now he had decided to be awkward. It was her own fault: she'd been neglecting him a bit lately and now he was sulking. She knew he was in a bad mood with because he'd refused to come out of his nest that morning when they left. That was why she had spent more than usual on his food.

"Where are you?" Abby sighed, and flopped down onto the sofa. She put the plate of chopped papaya and lychees down on the cushion next to her and leant back, resting her head on the back of the sofa and watching the rafters for any sign of movement.

"I know I've not been here much," Abby shouted up at the ceiling. "But I'm trying to make up for it! Come on, Rex: Connor disappeared for a whole month and you forgave him as soon as he showed up! Please? I got your favourites!"

Abby stared at the ceiling. The ceiling stared blankly back. She knew she'd been acting up around Peta. She knew she was being possessive and slightly jealous. It wasn't that she didn't trust Connor: she just didn't trust Peta. Peta was far too much of a geek for Abby's liking. It meant that the Australian redhead had far more in common with Connor than Abby did, and that made Abby feel threatened. She also didn't like the fact that Peta didn't quite seem to understand that Connor was taken. She'd seen the other woman putting herself in his way at every opportunity. Flirting, laughing, trying to impress. It was amusing, of course, that Connor hadn't noticed, but then, by not noticing, he also hadn't put her straight and that meant that she was getting worse. There was something else, something that Abby couldn't quite put her finger on, that made her suspicious of Peta, she was sure of it. She frowned and went over things in her mind once more. Whatever it was that had caught her attention, it remained elusive.

Abby sighed and got up. She looked down to pick up the plate and found it empty.

"You sneaky little..."

XXXX

"Well: what is it? You're the expert now."

Sir James Lester glared at the fish swimming round and round the outside edge of the tank.

"Looks like some kind of ostracoderm," Connor shrugged. He didn't bother looking up to check that Lester had actually spoken to him: there were no other possibilities now. It still irked him to be called an expert, though. He wasn't. Not officially. Not yet. Not on this! He hadn't even graduated, no matter how much the Home Office had rushed his progress through university.

"And what diverse region of our planet's history does an 'ostracoderm' call home?"

You could hear the 'air quotes' around ostracoderm.

"Ordovician, Silurian, Devonian. Somewhere round about there."

"Can you be more specific?" Becker asked.

"Not really," Connor shook his head mournfully, "I never paid much attention to the fish bits. They started off in the Ordovician, that's about four hundred and eighty odd million years ago to four hundred and forty odd million years ago, and fossils have been found from as late as the Devonian, that's roughly four hundred odd to three hundred and fifty odd million years ago. The Silurian is the bit in between: I think they kind of diversified a lot then, then started dying out again."

"And this guy?"

"Seriously: no idea. Could be any of the three. I'd have to do a fair bit of hunting to narrow it down."

"Then may I suggest, Mr Temple," hissed Lester, "that you get on with it!"

Connor bit his lip and kept his gaze fixed on the fish as Lester stalked out of the room. The fish was definitely an ostracoderm. The fused bony plate on the underside of the body and head was there. The jaws of modern fish were not. There were no fins though. That suggested it was quite primitive. In fact, it looked rather like a large, heavily armoured and scaly tadpole. Probably closer to the Ordovician end of the time scale then, Connor thought.

"What do we do now?" Becker asked, cutting into Connor's concentration.

"The anomaly's closed," said Connor. "We didn't get a chance to see what it was like or where it led. We've no way of knowing what bit of a hundred and thirty or so million years it led to. There's not much we can do." He shrugged. "Find a tank for it and work out what it eats. There were no other creatures through the anomaly, right?"

"None that we could find, no."

"Well, that's all we can do then, isn't it."

"Sir James won't be happy."

"When is he ever?"

XXXX

"How is that synchronisation program going?" Peta called across to Nigel.

"Almost there. I just need to tie in the last set of electromagnetic discs."

"Set?"

"I've grouped them into seven sets of six. It should make it easier for the system to handle."

"Yeah, I guess. Give me a shout when you're done and I'll give it a read through."

"How's the building?"

"Going okay. You know he's asked for a permanent one."

"Who?"

"Sir James. Wants a permanent 'imploder' down at Darwin Lodge."

"Darwin Lodge?"

"You know: the house in Cornwall."

"Oh, is that what they're calling it."

"So I hear. They've nearly finished the rebuild."

"What are they going to do with it?"

"Study the Triassic anomaly I presume. We already know we can reopen it. It's a foothold."

"Makes a change from the economy drive!"

"It's progress, isn't it? We might have lost a really expensive piece of kit, and we're not likely to get any pay rises in the next six months, but at least we have some actual progress to back it up."

"Hm."

Nigel nodded thoughtfully and then turned his attention back to the additional program he was writing. Once it was complete, the program would ensure that all forty two electromagnetic discs switched polarity in unison. He glanced back over to the spotted globe that was their new imploder, or Anomaly Control Executor, as he liked to call it: the ACE up his sleeve.

XXXX

"Where were you? I was worried!"

Helen lay down next to the tiny hole in the base of the wall dividing her cell from his. Her visits to the past, and her own time, had been getting more frequent recently and, each time she was away, she stayed away that little bit longer. Just long enough to keep him worrying. Worry was good. It meant that he still believed her and, what was more, that he cared about her.

"I'm fine. They took me to see some more of their world. They seem to blame us for it. I don't know what's going on."

"You didn't look fine when they dragged you past me."

She let the blood drip out of her nose: it would stop by itself. Cai had done a good job today.

"I'm fine," she insisted. "I've been worse. It's just a couple of bruises and a bleeding nose."

"How long do you think we've been here now?"

"I don't know: it's hard to say. It's always daylight when they take me up there, but I can't tell how much time is passing in the other cells."

"What are they like, the other cells?"

"Just like this one, and yours I suppose. Hacked out of the chalk. Iron bars. That sort of thing."

"I've been thinking," he started.

Helen smiled. Here it came: that seed of an idea she had planted days ago was finally starting to bear fruit. She would have to be careful though: to much pushing and he might spot that it wasn't quite all his own work. Too little and he might lose faith in the plan and drop it entirely.

"Yes?" Helen coaxed.

"There may be a way out," he continued with renewed vigour. "If you try and count the steps again, and the turns, the next time they take you out of here, I'll try and figure out where we go from there. I've been working at the iron bars: it takes some time and patience, and a chicken bone or something to scrape with, but I think we can work them loose. By the look of things, if we can get the bottom of the bars loose, we can just lift them out: there doesn't seem to be any solid fixings at the top of the bars."

"Really?" Helen took care to sound surprised. "You're sure?"

"Absolutely. We're going to get out of here, Helen. We just need to work at it."

"I'll do my best," she murmured, glancing up at the three bars of her cell that already stood loose against the far wall.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Abby looked along the thin plastic tube running from the machine into Nick Cutter's arm. He was unconscious: they had knocked him out before moving him to the medi-centre. His gaunt, unshaven features were starting to look vaguely healthier though. She wasn't sure which was more disturbing: seeing him sitting staring into space in his office or seeing him lying here being fed through a tube. The ARC medical team were useful in a crisis, but unless there was blood pouring out from somewhere, or weird physical symptoms that they could get their teeth into, they seemed to be out of their depth.

Whatever was going on with the professor, it was mental, not physical. Becker had been able to pinpoint the exact moment when he changed: right after Helen said something to him just before she disappeared. Abby couldn't help but wonder what those few quiet words had been to have such an effect. She was no psychologist, but whatever those words were, they had caused a reaction so great that the mind of Nick Cutter was stranded or fixated, or whatever the right word was, upon them.

"Why won't you just talk to us?" Abby murmured, only realising afterwards that she had given the thought voice. She glanced over her shoulder self-consciously. She'd never been much good at hospitals, especially not at the "talking to the patient" therapy type stuff they went on about. Even when Stephen had been dying from an arthropleura bite, she had just sat there and watched him; although, with Stephen, who could blame her!

"D'you have any idea of the mess we're in?" Abby sighed: resigning herself to talking out loud and trying to make herself feel better about it by telling her head that whatever she said to the professor he probably wouldn't be aware of anyway. "Connor's in charge of all the science stuff now and he's about ready to explode! He even missed... and I say this in full awareness of the fact that it's going to make me sound like a geek! He even missed the first episode of the new series of Battlestar Galactica because he had to 'work'. Can you believe it? He spends almost all day here, and I don't mean nine to five! He's in here from whatever time in the morning to almost midnight sometimes! There have been nights when he hasn't even bothered to come home! And to make matters worse, the majority of the time he spends here he spends with his new IT buddies working on that ridiculous looking contraption and trying to figure out where they can take it next and how they might be able to shrink it or modify it or get from the one they've got now to whatever Helen had that made her disappear like that and unless I'm actually there hanging over their shoulders I never get to see him and now Rex is even starting to go in the huff with me!"

Abby took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to compose herself. She let out the breath slowly, keeping control.

"Everything okay?"

Abby jumped and turned round. Connor was standing in the doorway.

"How long have you been there?" Abby asked, frowning.

"We've got a new anomaly alert," said Connor, looking past Abby to Nick's prone figure on the ARC medi-centre bed.

"Where?"

"Up north again. Hull this time," Connor was still watching Nick.

"Any more information or do I have to play twenty questions?" Abby tried to sound cheerful.

"There's a team leaving in half an hour. Pack a bag in case we need to stay over again."

Abby watched as Connor turned and walked away. She blinked and shook herself, going over the sparse pieces of information that were trying to fight their way through the warning signals that were screaming in her brain.

She turned back to Nick, anger now seeping through.

"This is ridiculous! I can't believe we have all come so far just to collapse in a heap when Helen snaps her fingers! Wake up! You're doing nobody any good lying there like one of your fossils! Stephen's gone. Jenny is who knows where! Connor seems to be drifting further away from me every day and I cannot, I will not, lose him over THIS! Wake up and do something before the whole world goes to pot!"

Immune to her tirade, Nick lay there. He made no movement, no sign that he had heard her. Abby screamed in frustration and stormed out of the room.

XXXX

It was a long drive up to Hull. The M1 was not the most interesting of motorways and nobody in the convoy seemed particularly loquacious. Becker had delegated driving duty to another soldier. He sat in the front passenger seat communicating via radio with a team already at the site. Connor and Abby occupied the rear of the land rover, each at opposite sides of the vehicle, each staring aimlessly out of the windows. Once or twice, one of them would look round but, finding the other looking away, would quickly return to their previous occupation.

Finally turning off the road at a sign for a dive centre, the team soon found themselves surrounded once more by military vehicles. A cordon had been set up some distance back from the centre and Becker paused to make sure that the guards had their stories straight should anyone start asking questions. It was only a vague bluff about some piece of military equipment turning up, but in the absence of a PR expert, it was the best he could do.

"What have we got?" Becker asked as he and the others piled out of the land rover by the side of a large, artificial looking lake.

"Two of the centre's divers were down this morning, sir," a black clad, middle aged man replied. "They were surveying the site before reopening. Apparently there was a lot of damage during the floods."

Becker nodded, recalling the massive flood damage the area had taken in the wake of the North Sea anomaly. Things hadn't been too bad on a grand scale, but if you condensed that scale to the north bank of the Humber, things had been exceedingly damp.

"What made them call us?"

"While they were down there, they spotted a few things out of order. Nothing major, nothing that couldn't be explained by the storms. Then they spotted something moving. One of the divers is a marine biologist by degree, sir: she swears the creature she saw should be extinct."

"Oh great!" Becker pulled a face and tried to stop himself swearing. If there was one thing he didn't need, it was another scientist! "Right, fine, give me the details."

"Name: Kate Barratt. Age: 26. B.Sc. Honours in Marine Biology. M.Sc. in Aquatic Ecosystems. Dive Master qualification with PADI. Currently working on a PhD. in Interspecies Interactions in Aquatic Ecosystems. Hull University. Part time diving instructor here for the past two years. Claims that the creature she saw was a belemnite, sir. Prehistoric and extinct, but she's not sure about the era without checking."

"Okay, where is she?"

"One of my female officers is with her just now."

"And her dive buddy?"

"In the office with another of my officers. He's another story, sir."

"Oh?" Becker frowned. "Why?"

"Claims he saw something entirely different down there."

"What?"

"You're not going to like this sir," said the older man, glancing down at his feet, "but he says he saw a bomb."

Becker's jaw dropped. It took him a moment to snap out of it.

"What kind of bomb? An old one?"

"One of the World War ones, he says. Thinks the storms stirred it up. Maybe from the Blitz: Germans trying to hit the docks and all that."

"That's great!" Becker was almost laughing. The other soldier looked at him strangely. Becker held out his hands and continued. "No, seriously! We need a reason to shut this place down to the public: what better than a legitimate bomb scare! It's close enough to the story our boys already have at the gate and if we do dredge up an old bomb we'll have tangible evidence of our reasons for being here."

"I suppose I didn't quite look at it that way, sir," the soldier conceded.

Feeling altogether more cheerful, Becker turned back to his reinforcements with a spring in his step.

"Right: I want a team of divers down there assessing the situation. Any sign of predators, anomalies or live explosives and you return to the surface immediately. Go carefully in the deeper areas: you may need to make a decompression stop on the way up. I need my next team extending the perimeter. We have a possible bomb threat, so let's treat it as one. I want a base set up at the edge of the perimeter. Get our civilians there and keep them separate: I want to interview them individually, especially the marine biology woman." Becker took a breath and turned to Abby and Connor. "Can either of you dive?"

Both shook their heads. Becker turned back to his troops, some of whom were rapidly disappearing in various directions. He picked out one of the few awaiting orders.

"Right: you. Call through to the ARC and find out who in the science team has underwater experience. The IT tech's should be on their way up with the imploder, not that it's likely to be much use here. Find out if any of them have SCUBA qualifications. If there are no divers in that team, we'll have to make do with our guys."

"What can we do?" Abby asked, aware that, beside her, Connor was still staring off into space.

"Water samples," Becker replied. "We have a full analysis kit in the supply truck over there. Make use of it. I want to know if there's anything odd about this lake. If you happen to catch anything in your jam jars, let me know."

Abby opened her mouth to reply but Becker was already walking away. She sighed and turned on her heel, heading for the truck. She had gone no more than three paces when she realised that Connor hadn't moved.

"Connor, what is it?" Abby snapped. "It's bad enough with Cutter spacing out on us without you going too!"

"Hmm?" Connor looked round. "No, I'm fine. I was just... Just..."

"Just what?"

"I was just thinking: Peta can dive. She used to dive the Great Barrier Reef out in Australia. She told me."

Abby rolled her eyes and turned back to the truck. This time she heard Connor following. She hurried ahead of him, muttering:

"I might have known blooming Lara Croft would be able to come to the rescue!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"What news, milady?"

"None yet, Cai," Helen Cutter drawled as she slipped into the monitor covered surveillance room. "The Nick of my timeline has had a rather interesting reaction to my news. He's still taking it in. How are my guests?"

"They confuse me, and each other. The elder appears calmer."

"Elder?"

"The woman on the left: she is older, is she not?"

"No, not at all," Helen shook her head, frowning at Cai. His statement puzzled her. She had taken both Claudia and Jenny at effectively the same moments in their life. Claudia had been a month younger when she was taken, but she had been in the cave-cell exactly one month when Jenny joined her. The two were the same age. Helen had controlled everything it was possible to control.

"What makes you think she is older than the other?" Helen asked Cai.

"Her bearing. Her manner," Cai shrugged. "It is difficult to say. Her first reaction to her twin was considerable, but since she awoke she has been able to assess the situation. She has been the one to calm the other down and explain things. She has been the one in control of herself."

Helen's eyebrows crept up her forehead, a rare sign of emotion. She was impressed. Jenny Lewis, it seemed was the stronger character. Such a shame she wouldn't get the chance to show it. Still, Helen thought: she might make a useful aid elsewhere in the project.

"And what of my other guest?"

Cai pressed a button on the console and the central picture, which had been jumping from each of the many cells to another, held steady on the image of a man working doggedly at the base of the metal bars at the from of his cell. They watched the figure in silence. He stopped suddenly and looked round, then shot back to the other side of the cell. A moment or two later, a guard walked past the bars, his helmet just visible in the shot. Another few moments and the man was back at the metal bar, working it loose.

"So far, so good," Helen smiled. "I had better get back to my cell and get some 'work' done on those bars, otherwise he might start getting suspicious. His intelligence should not be underestimated. Speaking of which, maybe it's time you started the tests on him. His reactions are already good and his instincts are usually trustworthy. Start building up his reaction speed. Introduce yourself and the project to him, carefully though. Make sure he believes the story I gave you. It is vital that he trusts both of us independently. His trust in you may vary from time to time, but he has not yet lived through my controversial return from the dead, so he has no reason not to trust me. Let's make sure we don't give him one.

Cai nodded mutely.

"Time to get back to work," Helen smiled, "Call your guards. Remember: this has to look real."

XXXX

Captain James Becker pushed open the door of the hut with perhaps more force than was strictly necessary. In front of him he saw various pieces of diving apparatus hanging from walls, racks and ceiling rigs. He stopped short to avoid colliding with a rack of dry-suits and looked round. At the far end of the hut two of his female officers loomed over a young woman sitting in a chair looking distinctly displeased. She looked round at the sound of the door, her damp, dark curls bouncing round as she did so.

"What is going on here?" Kate Barratt demanded, getting to her feet before her keepers could stop her. "You have no right to keep me here. Last time I checked spotting previously extinct animals wasn't a crime."

"You're here so that we can find out exactly what you saw and where, Miss Barratt," Becker replied walking over to her. "Please take a seat and we'll have a chat."

Kate ignored his request and remained standing as he reached her. He stopped just a foot from her and met her gaze calmly.

"We can talk just as easily like this," she replied.

"Fine," Becker shrugged and sat down in another chair. "You don't mind if I sit down though? I find it easier to take notes."

Kate watched as Becker pulled out a notebook and pen. He flipped the notebook open and jotted a couple of things down. Kate relaxed a little and sat down again.

"So what do you want to know?" she asked. "I've already told your other guys everything."

"First, let me introduce myself: I am Captain James Becker, military attaché to the Home Office. I am in charge of the operation that is now going on outside."

"And what 'operation' is that then?"

"Partly to find your extinct creature," Becker watched Kate's features carefully as he spoke. "Partly to find the unexploded bomb your dive buddy spotted."

She didn't flinch. No surprise there then, Becker thought.

"If you're so sure there's a bomb down there, shouldn't you be evacuating the area?"

"Oh, we are. There's a new base being set up for us at a perimeter. I just thought this would be a bit more... private... until it's ready," he shifted the pen in his hand and passed the pen and pad over to Kate. "I would like you, Miss Barratt, to draw for me the creature you believe you saw in the diving lake. I would also like you to try and draw me a diagram of where in the lake you saw the creature. If you saw the bomb, or if you know where your buddy saw the bomb, please mark that on the diagram also."

Kate took the pad and pen, her dark eyes shifting for the first time from Becker's face. He felt an inexplicable sense of relief when that incessant gaze was finally removed and glanced up at the soldiers to check they hadn't spotted his change of attitude. If they had, they weren't giving anything away.

Becker glanced back down at the pad. He watched as long, dextrous fingers sketched rough shapes on the paper and handed the pad and pen back to him. The first drawing looked a bit like a squid. Maybe it had been a squid then. He would have to get Connor to have a look. The second drawing was split into two diagrams of the lake: one from above and the other side on. There were three marks on each map.

"The star is where I saw the belemnite. The small cross is your buried treasure: Joe's bomb," Kate explained.

"And the large cross?" Becker asked, dreading the answer.

"That's the fracture in time the belemnite came through."

XXXX

"Do you have any idea how much money it costs to drip-feed scientists these days?" Lester snapped at the recumbent figure on the bed. "And there's still your wages to pay. It's not just the cost of the drips and the bed and the wages and the general electricity for heating and lighting the place, although why an unconscious man needs the light on is beyond me! It's the cost of the wages for the nurses, doctors and orderlies that have to be here to change the drips and switch the lights on and off! Not to mention the overtime we're racking up with the rest of them! If you weren't so annoyingly useful I'd be seriously considering telling them to switch the whole lot off and go bury myself in the paperwork! In fact, if you don't wake up sometime soon, I might just do that!

To cap it all, I'm not even left with a decent replacement. Mr Temple is obviously trying, but apparently genius, geek and leader is just one ridiculous hat too many for him! We've had to keep his little team of fans on board since they're busy building their new gadget after having demolished the last one. We're still trying to pay that off! As soon as they've finished this one, in the vein of computer programmers everywhere, they will suddenly realise how to build a better one and the whole process will begin again. At some point in the whole repetitive cycle Miss Maitland will be forced to kill Miss Jones brutally for spending more time with Mr Temple than anyone should ever have to. By the time this happens, however, we will have either reopened or failed to close so many anomalies that dinosaurs will once more rule the earth and my supremely intelligent brain will be rotting in some Home Office madhouse somewhere thinking 'where did it all go wrong' and remembering sitting here with you!"

Lester sighed and stared at the ceiling. He hated to admit it, but he was, for once, lonely. Leek was gone, Stephen was gone, Jenny was gone. Becker was off with the others on yet another anomaly hunt. Even the geeks had packed up their new toy and headed off up north. There was something else, though: something that nagged Lester at the back of his mind. He was, for once, out of his depth. He had dealt with almost every situation imaginable in his career, but the anomalies were utterly unimaginable. Regardless of the growing experience he had within the ARC, and his ability to organise the remainder of his team sufficiently well, he lacked one key ability. He could not even guess at what was going to happen next. People were predictable, most of the time. Leek had been an exception, but he had Helen behind him and she was the queen of exceptions! Anomalies were not people. They had no basis on which he could possibly expect to predict the anomalies. Even Temple and his geeks couldn't do that. Not yet. And Helen was back. Her eligibility for the role of 'person' was considerably in doubt! What wasn't was that the only person with the remotest chance of predicting her was currently lying unconscious in an ARC medi-lab bed.

Lester sighed again and got to his feet restlessly. He paced the room once or twice, then turned to the door.

"What," croaked Nick Cutter's voice. "Are you leaving already?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Why have you brought us here?"

"I want to show you something," Cai said slowly. "Something I have shown Madame Cutter here already."

Cai turned to the screens and felt the other man step up beside him. He didn't have to turn to know that Helen was watching from the corner. Glancing down, Cai flicked a few switches and pressed a button. The monitors changed. Instead of showing the interior of the caves they now showed the exterior. A blackened, dead landscape filled the views. The monitors gave a panoramic view of the land around the entrance to the caves.

"This is my land. The southernmost part of the land you and Madame Cutter once called England. It has become a wasteland and my people are forced to hide themselves below ground."

"What happened?"

"Many things," Cai shrugged, "Temperatures dropped. Sea levels fell. Dramatically so."

Cai flicked another switch and the view changed again, this time looking out across a vast rocky canyon.

"What am I looking at?"

"I believe, in your timeline, it was called the English Channel."

The other man drew in his breath sharply.

"When did it dry up?"

"Over a thousand years ago. We have seen many changes since then, though."

"I can imagine."

"We believe that, even when the waters first receded, the land was still fertile and green and pastures grew in the new land. The ice caps grew also and the northern part of the one time island was gradually lost beneath the glaciers."

"How far south did they come?"

"At one time they covered all but the southern tip of the Eurasian Plate. Then, they gradually receded, with the help of mankind, to the point they are at now. Our station is one of those that helps keep them at bay."

"Where are they now?"

"Some two hundred miles north of here."

Cai studied the man's features. He could not see why the Lady Helen had chosen this man as the saviour of his land, the new Albion, but he trusted her and her judgement. He turned back to the monitors.

"Our scientists have studied the causes of the Great Decline and we believe that it began in Madame Cutter's time, or shortly after. We also believe you, and she, to be key to stopping the event. We want you to help us."

"Why should we help you? You've done nothing but keep us prisoner and torture us since we got here."

"Not us," Cai shook his head, "That was our superiors: those who manage this facility. I belong to a hidden group. A group with radical ideas about the Great Decline. Ideas that could allow us to change the past to improve the present, not just control the present to maintain our survival in the future."

"How can I, we, trust you?"

"I have taken a great risk in showing you this. It is my intention to take an even greater one. My colleagues and I know these tunnels well. There are also some of the guards on our side. Together we intend to remove you from these caves. Once you are outside, you will have some distance to travel before you reach they way-point, and the terrain is treacherous. We will supply you with the necessary resources and clothing to reach your way-point in relative safety. After that, you will be on your own."

"Clothing?"

"The outside world is highly radioactive."

"Way-point?"

"A gateway to other times."

"What do you expect us to do when we get there?"

"With your permission, under the guise of interrogation, I wish to rapid-feed your memory with all the pertinent details."

"How..."

"It is technology of our time, not yours. To explain it all would take too long, but suffice it to say that it will impress upon your mind an immense amount of information in a short space of time. There may be some side-effects - short-term loss of your own memories, slight disorientation - but we have already tested the process on Madame Cutter and she will be able to fill in any blanks that appear."

The man looked round to Helen. She smiled up at him, half-heartedly.

"It's true," she said. "Cai asked me not to tell you. He wanted to explain it himself."

"So you think we should do as they ask?"

"I've seen the proof," Helen nodded, "I think we should."

The man looked from her to the monitors then back again, then to Cai.

"You have my permission," he said. "What do we do now?"

XXXX

"How goes the anomaly?" Becker asked, walking up beside Abby.

"Still steady," Abby shrugged. "How goes the diving scientist?"

"Don't ask!"

"Aw," Abby pulled a face of mock sympathy. "Is she not accepting your amazing theories on the bright shiny light and presence of belemnites in the lake?"

"You're the scientists: technically, it's your theories!"

"But our theories aren't the ones you're telling her, are they?"

"No, that would be against government policy."

"Ah," Abby nodded and tried not to laugh at the frustration written plainly across Becker's face. "Tell me something," she said, turning to face him fully. "Have you tried asking her what she thinks?"

"What?" Becker's brow creased and he looked at Abby as if she had just suggested little green men from Mars were landing nearby.

"Ask her for her explanation. If she hasn't got one, then ask her why she doesn't accept yours. If she has got one, act as if it's the right one."

"And if hers is the right one?"

Abby considered this for a moment and glanced over to where Connor was waving his arms at a pair of military divers and trying to communicate what it was he wanted them to look for.

"Offer her a job," she suggested.

XXXX

"Talk me through it again," said Claudia Brown from one side of the chalky cell.

Jenny Lewis sighed and stared at the rough hewn ceiling.

"The anomalies are gateways in time, yes?" Jenny looked over to Claudia to make sure she was following her fully. It was still weird to see a different version of yourself looking back, but she was getting used to it.

"That much I know." Claudia nodded. "Nick worked that out the first time we found one."

Jenny set her teeth at the mention of Nick.

"If you change something in one time, it can affect what happens after it. Correct?"

"I suppose so," Claudia nodded again. "That's logical."

"In my time, I joined the Anomaly Research Centre less than a year ago. You did not exist."

"But..."

"Don't interrupt me!" Jenny snapped. She was tired and thirsty and this was the third time they had been over this story.

"When I met Nick Cutter he told me I was you." Jenny continued, regaining her composure. "He said that something had happened, in the past, and changed you into me. I didn't believe him, I thought he was mad, until his dead wife confirmed his story. I'm willing to bet that it was Helen who is responsible for our current predicament. What she hopes to achieve from this, however, I have no idea!"

Claudia waited a moment, still biting back her response to Jenny's terse command moments earlier. When she was sure Jenny was well past finished, she raised her head.

"But the dates don't make sense. I understand all that. I do. But according to your story, you were at Stephen's funeral on the fourth of March earlier this year. On that very same day, I was standing beside Stephen at Nick's funeral. It's not a date I'm likely to forget!"

XXXX

"You're sure you are feeling okay?" Lester scrutinised Nick like a schoolmaster looking for signs of treachery in a naughty schoolboy.

"Honestly, Lester, I feel fine!" Nick held up both hands in supplication. "I'll feel a whole lot better once I'm out of this bed and back on the job!"

"Very well," Lester sighed, "Goodness knows it's better than having Connor in charge! If it's not him babbling on about some infernal machine, or his girlfriend trying to tear the hair off one of my still recently employed geeks, it's Becker babbling on about some blessed fish woman! Ah, how I long for the days when Ms. Lewis was here to bring some form of sanity to the mix!"

Nick Cutter looked up, frowning.

"Who?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"You can't just take over a military operation, you madwoman!" Becker stormed across the muddy car park, hot on Kate's heels. He had to take half a step backwards to avoid colliding with her when she whirled round to face him.

"Some military operation this is!" Kate yelled back. "You're so called divers don't know the area, don't know what they're looking for and frankly, I don't think they know what end of the body their fins go on!"

"And you do, of course?"

"Yes, I do! I know this pond like the back of my hand! I know what I saw and where I saw it! I know how to dive and, wonder of wonders, I even know how to catch a fish under water! So far all your flippin' frogmen have come up with is chunks of our artificial reef! They're a liability!"

"You are a civilian! You cannot go down there!"

"I'm a scientist! I'm an expert diver and an expert in marine biology! I'm the most qualified person you've got here!"

"You're still a civilian!"

"Which means I DON'T have to take ORDERS from YOU!"

Connor and Abby sat on one of the observation benches, casually sipping slushies from the dive centre's tea shop. They watched calmly as the pair stormed past them towards the newly emerged dive team.

"Better than telly this," Connor muttered, not taking his eyes off the scene.

"Mm-hmm," Abby agreed, through her straw.

XXXX

"What do you mean you don't recognise it: it's your office!" Lester was finding Nick Cutter's apparent memory loss tiresome.

"Since when?" Nick shrugged.

"Since... I don't know!" Lester fought for words. "Since the ARC was built! Since the anomalies began! Since the days when that egotistical maniac Leek would follow me round like a puppy to try and hide a latent desire to murder me horribly with the aid of your unscrupulous megalomaniacal dominatrix of a wife and a giant bat!"

Nick blinked.

"Who's Leek?"

Lester threw his hands up in despair.

"You're doing this to annoy me! I know you are! You must be! Nobody, NOBODY, could actually manage to come back from an anomaly twice with no memory! Once is careless, twice is just ridiculous!"

"Lester, what are you babbling about?"

"This!" Lester threw his hands up again. "All this! It's happened before and I'm getting that detestable feeling of de-ja vu that caused so many problems in The Matrix!"

"Right," Nick turned to face Lester fully, leaning back against the wall of his so called office. His tone was patient, but he was finding it difficult to keep it that way. "So why don't you tell me what happened last time and we'll see if that rings any bells."

Lester sighed and folded his arms, drawing a hand over his face as he did so. He needed to think, and once he had thought, he decided to take a slightly different track from the one Nick Cutter had suggested.

"What is the last thing you remember?" Lester asked flatly.

"Coming back through the anomaly."

"Which one?"

Cutter frowned.

"The Permian one, of course," he said.

Lester let his head drop into his free hand.

"Oh," he groaned, "we're not back to there again!"

"What?"

"When you came through that anomaly, you were confused. You said that something had changed in the present while you were in the past, so you recognised the change but we didn't. I just decided you'd lost your memory. Since then, you have spent a considerable amount of time behaving even more strangely than usual however you did eventually prove your point when Helen, of all people, confirmed your story. It's been the best part of a year since you came through that Permian anomaly and a lot has changed since."

"Like what?"

"Let me fill you in on the easy stuff first," Lester's tone became graver. "Then we can deal with some of the stuff that might be harder to take. You might want to sit down for this."

As Lester and Nick eased themselves into chairs, the thoughts running through Lester's mind took a rare sympathetic side. He had seen horrors in his career. While the best thing for Nick's memory might be a slow, natural return, it was about to receive the exact opposite. A situation which might forever inhibit the full return of those memories. On the other hand, however, there were some things this man had seen that might be better left forgotten.

XXXX

A quiet stillness had descended over the cave system, at least where the cells were. It might be what passed for night in this labyrinth of sunless hollows. The man started when a guard suddenly walked past his cell, his body fully enclosed in his uniform jump suit, boots, gloves and helmet. He listened intently to sounds coming from the cell next door. What was happening now? Was this part of the plan? His head snapped up when the guard returned to his field of view. This time he had Helen securely in his grasp, her hands fastened behind her back. The man felt his heartbeat quicken as the guard removed the loose bars from the front of the cell. He stood up and edged away from the guard, only relaxing when he finally recognised the familiar glint of Cai's eyes within the helmet. He nodded recognition and allowed Cai to bind his wrists as he had Helen's.

They made their way through the cave system with little difficulty: nobody challenged a guard and two prisoners. The man kept his head bent downward, but let his eyes roam from left to right, taking in landmarks of their route should he ever need to retrace it. There were guard posts at regular intervals, at least for the first part of the journey. Rooms sprouted on either side of him, revealing food stores, armament stores, classrooms, training rooms. He even spotted a gym as they passed, its weights stacked neatly against a wall next to a giant white ball. He could have sworn that ball moved as they marched past.

Eventually they turned down a narrower corridor and Cai produced a light to guide them as they marched on ahead of him. They made their way down a long, steep flight of stairs, then along some more corridors, each one more winding and convoluted than the previous one. As they moved down a second flight of steps, the man could feel the air about him grow cooler and fresher. There was still an acrid taste to it, but it was definitely air from outside the caves.

In another ten minutes, the man's suppositions were rewarded with the sight of pale light filtering through an open door way. There was another guard at the door, holding the heavy metal contraption open with his body and a small control in his right hand. In his left he held two packs.

At some signal from Cai, the guard stepped aside and raised the two packs and control. Cai took them from the other guard and nodded to him. The guard nodded back and disappeared back along the corridor. As the man stood looking up at the open sky above him, so familiar yet so different, he felt his bonds released and looked round to see Helen rubbing her wrists and Cai sheathing a knife.

"You cannot remain out here for long," Cai told them, looking from the man to Helen and back again. "The radiation will damage you in these clothes. In each these packs you will find food, water and a shelter, as well as some means of defence should you need it. In Madame Cutter's pack there is also a piece of equipment we have found very useful. It will open a door to wherever you choose to go. Your new memories should include instructions on its use. I must leave you now. I can only say once more that you must not spend too long in this environment. I wish you luck in your quest. Our hopes rest with you."

XXXX

Lester scrutinised the young woman standing beside Becker. He would have preferred to be there in person, but videophones had their uses after all. He had received the background checks on Miss Barratt and there was nothing there that would prevent her being an asset to the team, indeed the details in his possession suggested quite the opposite. She would be of great use to them, provided she could keep her trap shut!

"Very well," he snapped. "I'll fax through a provisional copy of the Official Secrets Act for her to sign. It doesn't look as though Professor Cutter will be joining you for a while."

"I thought he was awake?" Becker replied, puzzled.

"Awake, yes," said Lester. "Capable of leading an operation like this, no. You're in charge until further notice. If Mr Temple complains, which I doubt, tell him I want him to concentrate on that contraption he and his geeks have been building. That should keep him quiet."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"I still don't like it. With that much water around it the effect would be totally unpredictable!"

"Only as far as the electricity's concerned. It's the magnetic field we're interested in."

"And how are we making that field, Einstein?"

Connor sighed and rolled his eyes. He found himself wishing he were somewhere else yet again, anomaly or no anomaly. The suggestion to insulate the imploder against water damage so that they could put it in place around the anomaly had sparked an argument between Peta and Nigel that had been raging for the past half hour. Unfortunately Peta was arguing against the plan and, right now, she was winning.

"Okay, okay," Connor held up his hands to silence the two. When he had their full attention, he turned to Peta. "How about you get some diving stuff on and go down and have a look at it. If you think there's a better way to do it after you've seen what we're dealing with, then we'll talk about that. If not, we give Nigel's idea a go."

Peta opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. She nodded.

"You're the boss," she said.

Connor and Nigel watched as she walked off in the direction of one of the huts.

"Do you think she'll find anything?" Nigel asked, peering through his spectacles.

Connor ran a hand over his face.

"I don't know," he sighed, "but at least it stops the bickering between you two!"

XXXX

Helen grinned across at the man gazing rapturously at the shimmering doorway they had just walked through.

"I almost forgot," she said, reaching up to pluck an apple from a nearby tree. "This was your first time through an anomaly, wasn't it? Well, first time through awake, anyway."

"It's amazing!" He replied, ignoring her rhetorical question. "Are they always like this?"

"Always," Helen nodded, walking over to him. She held out the apple and tipped her head to one side. "Hungry?"

He looked round and smiled, taking the fruit that was offered. He bit into it and chewed thoughtfully for a moment.

"Where are we?" He asked.

"A deserted walled garden in North London. We're far enough out of the city that we can be fairly certain we won't be spotted arriving, or leaving, but close enough to find easy transport to wherever we need to be."

"Okay," the man paused, looking around him at the abandoned house and garden. He turned back to Helen. "Maybe this should have been my first question, but _when_ are we?"

"Two thousand and seven. Sixth of July. Around about ten in the morning."

"That thing can't be that accurate!"

"There's about a twelve hour margin of error, but, judging from the clock I can see through that window behind you, I'd say we've arrived just a couple of hours early."

The man spun round to see that the anomaly had now vanished to give a perfect view through a downstairs window of the house. There was a large, old fashioned clock on the mantelpiece directly opposite the window. The time was indeed shortly before ten and, as he watched, he saw the minute hand move to the hour and heard the faint sound of ten chimes. He looked back towards Helen.

"So what now?"

"Now?" Helen replied, smiling and stepping forward towards the house. "Now, I think we should make ourselves at home."

XXXX

"Well?"

"Well, what?" Becker replied glumly as Abby walked up beside him.

"Did she sign it?"

Becker sighed and unfolded his arms, leaning back on them against the wall instead.

"She signed it," he answered.

"So we have a new expert on the team: a scientist, marine biologist and diver! Just what we need!"

"Hmm..." Becker's grunted reply was noncommittal at best.

"And yet the cheery side of your nature has yet to burst forth."

Becker glared at her.

"Go on then," Abby prompted.

"Go on what?"

"Explain to me," Abby said slowly, "what is so bad about having her on the team."

"She's arrogant."

"She knows her stuff and she won't be patronised. It's not the same."

"She won't follow orders."

"Neither will any of the rest of us."

"She'd obviously mad."

"Have you looked at the rest of your team lately?"

"She hates my guts."

"Ahhh..."

"What do you mean 'ahhhh'?"

"You like her."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I should have known."

"There's nothing to know."

"It's obvious now, of course."

"It's as clear as mud to me!"

"Obviously."

"You're being childish."

"Am I?"

"Yes."

"Oh dear. What a shame. I shall stop it immediately."

"Thank you."

"But I am right though."

XXXX

Connor was staring blankly at the computer screen when Abby joined him. Numbers flickered past and lines moved up and down on the screen, communicating their information in that secret language understood only by programmers. It took him a moment to register her presence, leaning over the chair next to him. When he did, he noticed that she looked serious.

"Where've you been?" Connor asked, pushing himself upright in his computer chair.

"Just winding Becker up," Abby murmured, watching Connor's face intently. She swivelled her chair round and sat down in it, dragging Connor's chair round to face hers.

"What have I done?" Connor's expression became suddenly worried.

"Are you okay?" Abby asked, watching his features for any hint of an answer.

"I'm fine," he shrugged.

Abby's eyes narrowed.

"You're lying," she said. "You're not fine. You're too quiet. You're... Different."

"I'm fine," Connor leaned forward and took Abby's hands in his. "It's just... Everything's different just now. I'm in charge of... Of a team. I've got people coming to me, ME, for orders and decisions and... I just... I hate it. It's no fun anymore. It's not me. I'm not the responsible one. I'm not the brave one. I'm scared of everything, me. Scared of flying, scared of heights, claustrophobic... The list goes on."

"You're also the guy who, in one day, took two trips in a jet aircraft, had a gun fired at him and shut himself in cupboard for hours."

"The other option was drowning and I did spend most of that time trying not to freak out."

"You still did it. And the rest. Connor, you are the bravest person I know. I mean: which shows more courage? To do something you're not afraid of? Or to be afraid and do it anyway?"

"But all this..."

"We'll get through it."

"Will we?"

"What d'you mean?"

"I heard you talking to Cutter, back in the ARC."

"Oh?" Abby tried to swallow but found her mouth was dry. "What did you hear?"

Connor shrugged.

"It just sounded like you weren't happy," he said.

Abby nodded and let her eyes fall to her hands, still encased in Connor's.

"I'm not happy," she admitted. "And neither are you. But that's nothing to do with us. It's just work. That's all. Sometimes," she looked up at him, "it just seems too much to cope with on my own."

Connor met her gaze, a frown creasing his face.

"You're not on you're own," he said quietly.

"Aren't I? Because from where I'm sitting, it feels like I'm losing you, Conn."

XXXX

"Happy now?" Becker enquired as Kate walked over to him in her dry suit, Peta by her side.

"More or less," Kate shrugged, pulling a face.

"Great! After all that and she's still not entirely happy!"

"I'll be happier once I've seen that fish you found from the other one and compared it with one I caught while I was down there."

Becker's head snapped round.

"You caught stuff?"

"Oh yeah," Kate grinned and walked on past him to the huts.

James Becker stood and watched her go, wondering what on earth he had let himself in for. She was an asset to the team, that was definitely true, but would she be more trouble than she was worth? His mind flashed back to the conversation with Abby earlier that day. It was true: he did feel drawn to her. That didn't necessarily mean he had feelings for her though: he barely knew her. She was maddening, infuriating and frustrating, but she was a part of the team now and he was stuck with her. He turned at the sound of hurried footsteps approaching from behind him.

"It's closing!" Nigel cried excitedly, waving his arms around like a mad semaphore operative. "The anomaly's closing!"


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"Why did you invite him?" Connor hissed into Abby's ear.

"He's your friend, Connor, remember? Your friend?"

"Who hasn't spoken to me since Tom died!"

"You haven't gone out of your way to speak to him either!"

"I didn't want to get him involved! Look what happened last time!"

"He's still your friend! I know it hurts to hear it, but I think he knows better now not to meddle in whatever you're up to. He's not going to get involved. Not with the ARC. He just wants his friend back."

"I can't bring Tom back!"

"I didn't mean Tom, you idiot! I meant you!"

Connor glared at Abby as she hurried off in the direction of their kitchen. It wasn't that he was ungrateful: it was nice that someone had actually gone to the trouble of arranging a surprise party for him. Usually his birthdays were just marked by his favourite pizza and a Star Wars marathon. It was just that he really didn't want Duncan involved with anything to do with the ARC and the anomalies. It was true that he hadn't spoken to his friend since Tom's death, not even at the funeral. He didn't feel he had any right to. He had let them down and Tom had died because of it. He had seen Duncan around the university though. Just occasionally, but enough to tell him that his former friend was becoming more and more withdrawn from the real world. He had lost weight. Connor never saw him smiling. He sat on his own in the canteen, and at the back of the lecture hall in a corner by the door.

Connor looked back round and scanned the living room for Duncan's form. It wasn't a massive crowd. Jenny wasn't there. Stephen wasn't there.

Tom wasn't there.

He spotted Duncan over at the window, staring out at the street below. Cutter walked over to him and began speaking to him. He might not be able to remember the past six months or so, but Cutter did remember Duncan, and Tom. He also remembered what happened to Tom, or a version of the incident at least. One that included the woman Claudia, but left out Leek. If only if had been Leek, not Tom, who had been infected. Things could have been so different.

XXXX

"You still haven't told me," Jenny sighed, breaking the interminable silence in the cave cell.

"Told you what?" Claudia asked wearily.

"I've told you what's been happening in my world. You still haven't told me what's been happening in yours."

"Why is that important?"

"We're assuming that Helen's reason's for taking both of us stem from my world and the change that occurred in my Nick's life when you became me. We haven't considered the possibility that your life, and your world, have just as much to do with it."

Claudia drew in a deep, bitter breath.

"I don't see how it can," she replied. "In my world, Nick is dead."

"So in the reality where nothing was changed in the past, and you remained you, the outcome was that on March 4th, Nick, not Stephen, died."

"So it seems."

"Why would that one change, or lack of it, make such a big difference?"

"Is it such a big difference? In one reality Stephen, in the other Nick."

"Of course it is," Jenny gasped. "It's Nick! I know Stephen's a good man and I mourned him at his funeral, but if it were Nick! Don't you feel anything for him? I thought we were variants of the same person. He certainly cared for you. Besides, there aren't many people Helen would go to this much trouble for: surely he's the key."

"Don't talk to me about what I felt for Nick," Claudia spat back. "Don't you dare! You know nothing of my world. Nothing! You barely knew him. I was there, with him, the very first time he saw an anomaly. I persuaded Lester to trust him. I broke the rules for him. I lied for him. I took risks for him. All because I loved him and he loved me. We were happy. Life was busy and dangerous, but we were always together."

"Then you _were_ an item?" Jenny confirmed, determined to have every fact clear in her mind. "A couple? And Lester and the others: they knew?"

Claudia gave a short, bitter laugh and shook her head.

"What?" Jenny asked, frowning.

"Lester gave me away at our wedding," Claudia replied. "Nick wasn't just my boyfriend or latest crush: he was my husband!"

XXXX

"I wouldn't if I was you, mate!" Connor said wearily as he wandered round the room picking up the discarded paper cups and plates that were all that now remained of his decidedly tame, but still very thoughtful, surprise birthday party.

Rex looked up from the plate he was sniffing and watched Connor move around the room, padding round happily to keep his friend in view. He seemed sad and slow. Maybe he didn't like the cold: it was very cold today. Rex didn't feel cold. He'd been flying all over this funny cave now that the noisy creatures had gone and Abby had let him out of his nice warm tank. The air was chilly though, and Rex was hungry. He padded back round to the half-eaten food on the paper plate. He had seen one of the noisy creatures eating it earlier and they had seemed to enjoy it. It was surprising that they didn't realise how well he could see them through the shawl that covered his tank, but maybe the point wasn't to stop him seeing them, but them seeing him. There had been a lot of creatures that he didn't recognise. Abby and Connor didn't like new creatures getting to know him too well. Rex sniffed the food again. He didn't recognise it, but he didn't recognise a lot of things here. The creature had enjoyed it. He decided to try a small, green, round thing on the plate: it looked like a bit of a small fruit. In the blink of an eye, his tongue darted out and grabbed the green thing. Rex munched happily. It seemed okay. Suddenly Rex stopped munching. Something was very wrong. His mouth was burning. He spat out the treacherous green thing and turned round in circles, looking for some water to take the burning away.

Connor looked round at the odd squawk from Rex and the clattering that had followed. The lizard was shaking its head and running round in awkward circles as if it was looking for something. As he turned, Rex had knocked some of the cups and plates off the table. Connor's eyes spotted the half-chewed remains of the jalapeño on the table top. He smiled and caught hold of a wriggling Rex.

"I did warn you, mate!" Connor giggled. He walked over to the kitchen carrying Rex under his arm. "Abby," he called up the stairs. "Can lizards drink milk? I think Rex has just discovered Mexican party food!"

XXXX

"Is this your house?"

"In a way."

Helen looked up at the man half-way up the stairs. She was surprised it had taken him this long to ask. Fatigue must play a part, of course: he would hardly have slept well in the cave cell. It was two days since their arrival and the late evening. He had slept away most of the day. That didn't matter: the night was when she needed him to be awake. There was too great a risk of someone spotting them if they went about in the day time. It was one thing when she was on her own, but he was still new to this. Still new, and still young. Eight years younger than the last time she had seen him. She liked the younger version: he was more manageable. He still trusted her implicitly. She had only been gone a year in his time, less than that really. It was easily put down to the anomalies and another abduction, just like his own. He hadn't met any of his so-called new friends, courtesy of those anomalies, so his loyalty was to her, and her alone. He had seen the devastated wilderness of Cai's world and had been programmed with the details of history that she had wanted him to know thanks to Cai's rapid learning machinery.

Helen watched him walk past her at the foot of the stairs and continue into the kitchen. He was worth watching. The ability to go back in time certainly had it's perks.

"Is there any coffee?"

"It's in the pot," Helen called back, following her prize through to the kitchen. "I heard you moving about upstairs."

"You know me too well, Helen," the man smiled up at her as he poured himself a mug from the steaming coffee-pot.

"You have no idea how well!" Helen smiled in reply.

XXXX

Connor hated Mondays. There were very few things he hated more than a Monday, unless it was a Tuesday after a bank holiday weekend. He knew that, working at the ARC, such things were completely illogical. Monday could just as easily be the last day of his week as his first and bank holidays were, more often than not, their busiest times of year.

He sighed and pulled open the door to his locker. Something white and rectangular fell out as he shoved his bag onto its shelf. He bent down to pick it up. It was, or at least appeared to be, a card in an envelope. It had his name hand-written on the front of the envelope in clear, simply printed capitals.

Connor put the envelope down on a table and shrugged off his coat, hanging it up on a peg before turning his attention back to the envelope. He started to open it, then paused. Wasn't it usually at this point in the horror movies that something bad happened? Weird, inexplicable messages turn up then, while the poor dupe is distracted by opening and reading the message, some black-clad masked manic sneaks up behind him and finds some new, inventive way for him to die horribly?

Connor shook his head. Those were movies. This was real life. They didn't need strangely be-caped homicidal maniacs: they had Helen. Oh, and a bunch of unpredictable doors to any point in time allowing all manner of natural born killers access to a high concentration of happy meals with legs.

Slowly, tentatively, he eased open the flap of the envelope. No massive explosion rent the air apart. No fine white powder puffed out of the opening. No intestine-spilling murdered approached behind him.

He looked over his shoulder, just to check.

Glancing round the locker room like a guilty schoolboy sneaking a look at the answers to his next exam, Connor turned his attention back to the envelope. Curiosity now began to take hold and he eased the card out. Still nothing bad had happened.

He turned over the card. The words "Happy Birthday" in bright yellow letters burst out from a deep blue background covered in cartoon balloons and ticker tape. Connor let out the breath he hadn't realised he was holding and felt his shoulders drop with relief. It was just a late birthday card. Someone had forgot to, or hadn't been able to, get it to him earlier so they had put it in his locker for him to find when he got back to work. It would be easy enough to do, surely. He opened the card to see who the culprit was. Inside, the verse bounced jovially across a page that echoed grey ghosts of the balloons and tape on the outside. He glanced over it cursorily and looked down to the bottom of the page.

Nothing.

Confused, Connor turned the card over and examined both front and back again, then the inside. Nothing. The card was completely devoid of any mark or clue. The only writing he could find was that on the envelope. He frowned. That couldn't be right: nobody would send a birthday card without signing it, surely. Not anyone who worked here, certainly. But then, if it wasn't someone who worked here, who else could it be? Every employee had been checked and double checked since the incident with Leek. Many had been replaced altogether. He knew most of the faces and a lot of the names, even if it was just their first name. There was nobody who worked here that would have given him a card without signing it.

But still: it was just a birthday card, right?

Connor sat, chewing his lip and staring at the card. After a minute of concentrated thought, he got up and headed for Lester's office.

XXXX

Claudia stared at the wall opposite. She didn't want to look at her cell-mate. Apart from the obvious discomfort of looking at your doppelganger, she wasn't sure that she would be able to complete her story if she moved her gaze from that tiny dent in the chalk wall.

"We were supposed to be on our honeymoon," she said, her voice flat and devoid of any emotion. "We'd already left for the airport when the call came through. Lester. He apologised, of course, but they needed Nick. Something to do with Helen. We told the driver to turn the car round and head back into the city, to the Home Office buildings. Nick said it wouldn't take long: we could get the next flight out. Just a bit of negotiating. I didn't know more until we were there and being briefed by Lester and Ryan."

"Ryan?" Jenny cut in.

"Captain Tom Ryan. Our military attaché. He supervised all of the military based operations for the Home Office. Saved Nick from a future predator once, and a raptor. He was a good man."

"I see," Jenny nodded. She had heard her Nick mention Ryan, but in her version of events, the predator had won that ultimate battle. She sensed a reluctance in her companion to return to her story. "Go on," she urged. "What did they brief you?"

"Helen had made contact," Claudia said bluntly. "She wanted to talk to Nick, but alone and face to face. She named a time and place. Lester had shrugged it off and asked her why they should even bother to tell Nick. She said they would regret it if they didn't. He pushed her for more information and she gave him a glimpse of a warehouse, filled with cages."

Jenny shivered. That warehouse sounded all too familiar.

"It became apparent that, somehow, she had been collecting samples of all the creatures that had come through the anomalies, ever since that first one back in the Forest of Dean," Claudia continued, ignoring Jenny. "Ryan suggested that he and his men mount an attack upon the warehouse, but Nick said they couldn't risk letting any of the creatures escape. He went to meet her as she had asked and, as we expected, she kidnapped him." Claudia took a deep breath then continued: "We knew she would try something like this, so we put a tracker on him and followed it to the warehouse. It was a run down looking place, but that was only the part above ground. There was an entire labyrinth of tunnels beneath the surface. Dark, metal-walled and full of stale air. Ryan took his men down into the tunnels. We went in search of the control centre. Stephen led the way. But then we got caught by Helen's men and spent the rest of our time trying to work out how to get out of a cell. They came and took us out of the cell, after a while. Frog-marched us up to the control centre we'd been trying to find. There were monitors there. They showed a massive hall. Ryan and his men were standing in the middle of it, all in a circle facing outwards. Then Helen appeared, out of the shadows, as always. Something had gone wrong, she said. Something that was meant to happen, hadn't happened and now she was going to put things right. Suddenly we saw it: the room that Ryan and his men were in was filled with predators. These ones were different, though: they had machines on their heads. Red, flashing lights. A neural clamp, she called it. She said that it was a matter of destiny: these men had to die, were supposed to be dead already. Suddenly all the lights went out on the heads of the predators and they started dropping on the soldiers. It was a bloodbath. That was when I heard Nick. I couldn't see him. She was keeping him back in the shadows. I didn't know it then, but he was tied up, hands and feet. He was gagged too. With the carnage on the screen, he'd tried to call out. The guards turned their attention away from us for just a second, but that was all we needed. We brought them down before they had a chance to react. Helen slipped out in the fuss.

When the guards were unconscious or, in one case, dead, we went to find Nick. When we got him into the light and took the ropes off, his face was haggard. I'd never seen him look worse. I just put it down to what had happened to Ryan and his men, but I was wrong. 'Didn't you see her?' He asked. I said no, we'd been busy. It was then that he told us what Helen had done just before she slipped out of the control room. She had pressed a button that released the caged creatures in the room below. Nick was adamant: we had to stop them escaping. The predators were loose now too. He had an idea, a plan. He said that the animals associated the sound of a klaxon with food. They should return to the cage room when it sounded, just like Pavlov's dog. We would have to get to the cage room, though, to sound the klaxon.

He said he knew where it was. He and Stephen would go. We should stay here and work out how to close the doors and lock them: Helen had unlocked them from the control room, so we should be able to do the reverse. I didn't want him to go, but what he said made sense and he would never have listened to me anyway. He kissed me and said he'd see me soon, then we could have our honeymoon and leave these guys to clean up the mess. Then he left. Stephen went with him, of course, and we closed the door behind them. It took them five minutes to get to the cage room and sound the klaxon. We couldn't see them, we just got updates on the radios. And we heard the klaxon of course. We had spent all of those five minutes and more at the controls trying to work them out, but nothing we did seemed to have an effect. Connor soon spotted the problem. Before she left, Helen hadn't just released the creatures, she had disabled the control panel too. Now there was no way to close the doors but from the cage room. One control on the inside and one on the outside of the doors. Stephen said the control on the outside was damaged. He would go inside and close it from there. When the creatures returned, he would be the one with the greatest chance of surviving. But Nick wouldn't let him. Stephen told us that Nick had knocked him out and gone into the cage room himself, closing the door behind him as the creatures approached. After that, there was nothing Stephen could do to save him."

"So he watched his friend die."

"So he said."

"What do you mean?"

"Didn't you wonder," Claudia asked, looking over at Jenny for the first time in her narration, "how Helen got hold of all those creatures?"

"In my world, she had help from Leek."

"She had help in my world too," Claudia nodded. "But we didn't have a Leek to help her. Instead, we had Stephen."

"Stephen?" Jenny's jaw dropped. "But..."

"He was Nick's best man at our wedding. He stood beside me at the funeral. He told everyone there how great a friend Nick had been. How humbling his sacrifice was. But all the time, he was lying through his teeth. Nick hadn't sacrificed himself for Stephen. Stephen had knocked him out and dragged him in there. He had closed the door from the outside, then damaged the controls himself. He had betrayed all of us."

Claudia's voice caught in her throat and she took a moment to compose herself before she spoke again. She raised her eyes to meet Jenny's, and they burned with bitter fury as she pronounced her final judgement.

"In my world, your saintly Stephen murdered Nick! He's no hero! He is evil!"


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"What do you mean it doesn't work? It worked perfectly back in that hole in the West Country!"

Lester tutted and rolled his eyes as his cry was answered by a deafening chorus of shrugs. Scientists. They were always so sure they had all the answers, so why were none of them able to come up with one now? Expectantly, he looked at Connor.

"Maybe it has to be directly on a fault line," Connor sighed.

"I thought we were on the fault line?" Lester shot back. "That was the point in building this centre here!"

Cutter shook his head. "You can never be absolutely certain where a fault line is unless you can see it," he said. "They twist and turn and can even fracture to go off in two completely different directions. Whatever is causing the anomaly fault lines, we can't pinpoint them yet: we don't even know how many there are."

"You mean there may be more than one?" Becker cut in, his eyebrows raising.

"Well, there would have to be, wouldn't there?" Kate replied. "I mean, you can't exactly draw a straight line between the ones you've had recently, can you?"

"Not without playing join the dots!" Cutter nodded.

"So how do we find out how to pinpoint them?" Lester asked, bringing the discussion back to a more practical point.

"We go back to where they've been," Cutter suggested, shrugging. "Take some readings, do some studies."

"Such as?"

"Physics isn't really my field."

"We would need a secure site," said Connor. "One that we could get access to without causing too much disruption around about it and where we could contain anything that came through if we reopened an anomaly there. Preferably one where we have a record of the exact position of the anomaly and we don't have to keep guessing until we hit it."

Lester caught Becker's eye and saw him give an almost imperceptible nod. He took a deep breath and turned to Connor and Cutter.

"I received information this morning that the building work at Darwin House is now complete and the building ready to be opened for use," Lester paused to make sure all confused stares were directed at him. "When you were all efficient enough to demolish half a house in the process of trying to reopen an anomaly, the government thought it might be prudent to purchase said property, along with the adjoining land. Having done so, they have rebuilt the house to somewhat more apt specifications, leaving the second prototype imploder in place. I had hoped to save it for an early Christmas present," Lester drawled wearily, "but it seems a late birthday gift may be more in order at present.

"Mr Temple, you may leave for Darwin house as soon as you have your team assembled. I will expect regular updates on your research."

A mixture of emotions played across Connor's face. He had been given free reign in his research into the anomalies, with his very own testing centre, but he had also retained his mantle of command. In a way, Lester was still the boss, but he had grown to hate having to order people around and make decisions millions of pound, or millions of lives, may rest. On the positive side, at least he got to choose his own team.

"Right then," he said, clapping his hands together. "Let's get this show on the road. Peta, Nigel, you two start packing up what we'll need. Abby..."

"I'm not coming with you Conn."

Abby's voice cut through the sudden rattle of activity like a knife. Time stopped for a moment as numerous pairs of eyes looked uncertainly from one to the other. As the silence pressed down upon the group, the others began to move quietly away. When the atrium had emptied, the two remained in silence. Connor's expression hadn't changed. It was one of mingled shock and despondency, his eyes searching Abby's face for an explanation.

"It's not where I belong," Abby shrugged. "I can't sit around punching buttons on a keyboard, Connor: that's not me."

"But I'll be there," Connor said quietly, "and we belong together."

"Do we?"

"How can you say that? After all this. After everything we've been through?"

"Things aren't right between us, Connor," Abby shook her head. "They haven't been for a while. You know that."

"Abby, we've had our ups and downs but..."

"It's more than that, Connor, you know it is. Maybe it is just a rough patch. Maybe it'll pass. All I know right now is that my place is here, where I can do what I'm good at."

"Fine, then I'll stay. Peta can lead the research team."

"It won't do any good, Connor: you'd just end up being miserable and resenting me for it," Abby sighed, walking over to him. "Just like I would if I went with you."

"So, what? This is it?"

"Yes, no... I don't know. I just think we need a break from each other. Start living our own lives a bit, then see if they can fit back together later on."

"And that's what you want?" Connor's voice had shrunk to a whisper.

Abby nodded wordlessly, reached up and kissed his cheek, then turned and walked away.

XXXX

Helen looked up from the soft pillow to see a shadow hovering by the window. She rolled over and pushed herself up on one elbow to get a better view.

"You look thoughtful, my love," she said, breaking the man's reverie and causing him to look round suddenly. "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing," he replied, turning and walking over to sit down on the side of the bed. "At least nothing that should be there. How long does it take for the memories to filter back in?"

"I don't know: it's different for every person. Mine came back in about a month, but there are still some things that escape me. Yours might return sooner, or they may take longer. There's no way of knowing. At least not here."

"And the new memories? The implanted knowledge? Will I be able to tell them apart from my own?"

"Some of it. All the things that you cannot recall actually being present at: those you will know are implanted memories. The rest..." Helen shrugged. "It can all get a bit hazy."

XXXX

Connor stood on top of the flat side of the ARC's roof, leaning on the railing and staring out at the city below him. Rain poured down, hiding the tears on his face. So many people living their lives normally without even a passing thought that there might be something so utterly bizarre as an anomaly and whatever may come through it just round the corner. Millions of people in the world who knew nothing about anomalies and their effects. Nothing about archaic creatures walking, flying or swimming into the present, or terrifying creatures from the future invading their own past. Nothing about how quickly they might one day have to wave goodbye to everything they took for granted about the world.

In all those millions who knew nothing about it, a handful of random people had been brought together to contain, and one day perhaps control, the threat. Now that handful was being ripped apart. He and Abby were being ripped apart by it all. Shapes that went together so well, in his mind, now no longer fitted in the same space.

Connor's reverie was broken by a buzzing from his pocket. He sighed and drew a hand over his face, dragging the mobile out of his pocket with his free hand. He flipped the cover of the phone and frowned down at the inbox screen. A new message had arrived from an unknown number. He rolled his eyes and opened the message, expecting some random sales pitch. Before he could hit the delete button, however, his eyes focussed on the message on the screen and his frown increased. He snapped the phone shut and hurried back inside the building.

XXXX

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Cutter whispered in Abby's ear as they gathered around Lester's desk with Becker and Kate.

"Definitely," Abby replied quietly, her voice steady. "I can't keep feeling like a spare part in this. I need to pull my weight. I can't do that stuck in a house near Bodmin."

"Right ladies and gentlemen, if we can possibly focus our attention for a few minutes," Lester called, drawing Abby and Cutter's eyes back to him. "With the increasing possibility of anomalies turning up off the line of the main fault, and in any possible conditions imaginable, I have decided it would be prudent to ensure that you all have the necessary training to deal with any eventuality. Each of you has different skills. If we can go through a programme of co-operative training to bring you all up to the basic level in each skill, then we should be left with four individuals all capable of leading four teams.

We must be aware of the possibility that at some point we may have to deal with simultaneous anomalies at different points in the country. I need to know that if I send two of you in one direction with a team, I can still rely on the other two to be able to deal with whatever is at the second location.

I have acquired private access to a local diving club. Miss Barratt has agreed to train Captain Becker and Miss Maitland to an advanced level in diving. I have asked her to ensure that you, Professor Cutter are capable of leading a diving based team. Once we have the capability to run two teams simultaneously, we will then start to worry about four.

I would also like Miss Maitland to assist Captain Becker in training Miss Barratt and Professor Cutter in one or other of the martial arts. I'm well aware that you know how to use your fists, Professor, but there's no harm in adding a little grace to your repertoire."

"And what skill am I to be teaching?" Cutter asked tersely.

"Your knowledge of Zoology, of course," Lester replied. "Miss Maitland is a reptile expert. Miss Barratt is a marine expert. They will both be able to bring their own special expertise to the table in those areas. You however, have the broadest knowledge of our current biodiversity, as well as that of previous eras. It is that broader knowledge that I want to see passed on, particularly to Captain Becker, who is entirely a novice in this respect."

"Connor has a better knowledge of prehistoric creatures than I do. He could help too."

"Only in some areas," Lester shook his head. "Besides, Mr Temple will be busy enough with his research on the anomalies themselves. He is our only true expert on them. Jones and her team have only studied his work. Their true field is programming. We need his input at Darwin House."

"And what do we do if an anomaly turns up before the training is finished?" Abby asked, changing the subject.

"Carry on as normal, my dear Miss Maitland: we put everything on hold until the threat is dealt with."

Abby opened her mouth to reply but was cut off as the anomaly siren sounded abruptly. Sometimes it seemed as if inanimate rips in the space-time continuum were possessed of an excellent sense of timing.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"When are you leaving?" Abby asked, not turning round from the pack she was filling.

"Before you get back," Connor replied, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"I'm not going to change my mind."

"No."

"Then why are you here?"

Connor shrugged, ignoring the fact that Abby had her back to him and wouldn't see the futile gesture. He sniffed and reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone.

"I got this," he said, bringing the odd message to the screen and holding the phone out to Abby.

Abby turned, her eyes avoiding his, and frowned at the mobile in his hand. She took it and read the message. Her frown deepened.

"I just wondered if you might know anything about it," Connor added as she scrolled down the message.

"Me?" Abby muttered. "No, why would I know?"

"It's an unlisted number. I just wondered if you'd passed my number on to anyone. Duncan perhaps."

"Because I invited him to your birthday party?" Abby pulled a face and handed the phone back to Connor. "I wouldn't do that and not tell you, Conn. You know that. You should know that, anyway."

"It seems I don't know that much about you any more," Connor frowned as he put the phone back in his pocket. By the time he looked up, Abby had turned back to her packing. He watched her in silence.

"Was there something else, Connor?" Abby hissed, leaning on the bench in front of her.

"Just..." Connor shook his head. "Just goodbye," he said softly. "That's all."

Abby waited until the she heard the door close and the footsteps recede, leaving her in silence once more. This time, however, it wasn't the silence of words unspoken, it was the silence of solitude and in the harsh light of the locker room, that solitude seemed more and more like loneliness. She caught her breath as a tear splashed onto her hand, unaware that it had escaped her eye, and returned her attention to tightening the straps on the pack.

XXXX

Helen gazed out of the window of the Land Rover at the hills and fields of southern England speeding by. In Cai's future, all these fields were nothing but dead, black landscapes, charred and sterilised by the use of nuclear thermal generators keeping the ice sheets back beyond the 52o North line of latitude. It was an interesting world. One she had made a thorough study of during her time there.

From the very first day Cai had spotted her wandering south across the dead surface, to the day she had persuaded the cave dwellers that she was their salvation. From the day they had agreed to follow her plan to the letter to the day they had made their first foray into the past. From the discovery of the alternative worlds and the profound effect that had had on Helen's plans, to the day they first brought someone through. All of those stages and the many others that had followed them: all led her directly to this moment, in a mud splattered old Land Rover on a road deep into the heart of rural Cornwall.

Her army was already there, waiting patiently for her arrival. All they need do now was prepare their attack and wait for the opportune moment. A moment that would be made so much sweeter and simpler by the presence of the man currently sat in the driver's seat at her right hand side.

XXXX

It was times like this that Sir James Lester missed the presence of Jenny Lewis.

Cutter, back in charge once more, had left with Becker, Barratt and Maitland and a sizeable squad of armed men. The ARC seemed somewhat depleted in their absence. They would be well on their way to the new anomaly now, with reserves to stay for at least a few days should it take that long for the anomaly to close. Lester hoped it wouldn't.

In the quiet murmur of activity that buzzed around the imploder team over at the far side of the atrium, Lester gazed at the detector screen and tried to work out how exactly he could close down one of Britain's most famous historical landmarks without anyone noticing. The answer, of course, was that he couldn't. He could merely hope and pray that the official looking white tent and the lie of structural problems would suffice to keep the press hounds at bay. It was distinctly possible, however, in view of the circumstances, that an official looking white tent would merely raise the question of something much more alluring to paparazzi: a headline grabbing murder. The question of a possible ritualistic sacrifice, or perhaps a tragic suicide pact between star-crossed lovers, could prove an even greater pull to the bloodthirsty journalist or photographer. He would have to make sure Becker extended the perimeter around this one even further than usual.

After all: how hard could it be to make Stonehenge invisible?

XXXX

Connor slumped against the wall as Peta surveyed the dismantling of the new imploder. Too many things were running through his mind. Why had Abby chosen to stay? Right when things had seemed to start going right again for them? Where had that text message come from? Who had sent it? Why? What did it mean? Was he doing the right thing? Should he be leaving with Peta and the others? Should he stay and help Cutter, and Abby? Should he tell Cutter about the message? What about Lester? It wasn't as if it was anything to do with the anomalies. Lester wouldn't be interested. Probably no point in bothering Cutter either then. But keeping it to himself bothered him. What if there was more to it? More than just a random message? But who could he talk to? Peta? Nigel? What good could they do? Becker? He would be busy with the new anomaly. Same went for the others. Duncan then? But he didn't want to bring Duncan into this. Abby had been the only person he could talk to, and now she was gone.

A sharp cough brought his attention back to the group before him. He looked up. The imploder had disappeared. For a moment, he panicked, recalling their first disastrous attempt at controlling an anomaly. Then he realised the cough had come from Peta and the imploder had merely been completely packed away for its journey to Burlawn.

"You looked a million miles away," said Peta gently. "Everyone's ready to go. Are you?"

Connor looked around the atrium of the ARC. Lester was standing with his back to them, his head tilted up to watch the movement of various indicators on the detector screen. A few other ARC pen-pushers wandered to and fro, some bringing Lester sheets of information. Others pausing to tell him something before receiving a curt order and disappearing again. This was how it was now: Connor was no longer in the midst of the action, but instead an outsider looking in. It was ridiculous to think that this change of position had made him insignificant, but that was how he felt. He was no longer a part of the team. He had his own team now, and they were waiting on him.

With a sigh, he turned to Peta and nodded.

"I'm ready," he said. "Let's go."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"This is ridiculous!" Kate cried, throwing her hands up in the air and storming over towards Becker. "Why am I the one stuck with redirecting traffic?"

"Because, Miss Barratt," Lester drawled, "you are the least experienced member of the team when it comes to anomalies, your field of expertise is the marine world, of which I'm sure you will agree there is very little in the immediate vicinity, and lastly, with the possible exception of Professor Cutter here, you are the most indiscriminately bossy person I have ever met! Unfortunately for you this still does not put you in charge, therefore I believe you have some angry, lost tourists to deal with."

Lester turned away, signalling that the interview was finished. Kate glared at Becker, daring him to say something, but the soldier merely stared at an indiscriminate spot on the horizon and refused to comment. Kate sighed and turned away, trudging back down the hill toward the base they had set up in the tourist centre. Had she looked back, she might have seen an amused grin creep across Becker's features.

XXXX

Connor stared blankly at the computer screen in front of him. He was bored. Across the room, the anomaly glittered. It was the fourth time they had opened the anomaly that day. First, just for a few seconds. Then a minute. Then ten minutes. Now half an hour. Each time they measured how long it took the anomaly to open, then to close, once they had initiated the electromagnet sequence. It should have been something he was interested in. Nigel and Peta were certainly enthusiastic enough about it. They filled the time between sequences with animated discussions about what might happen next, the tests they could run, the improvements they could make and all manner of other possibilities. Even now, he could hear their excited chatter from the next room.

Connor rubbed a hand across his eyes and let his view wander around the anomaly room. The ceiling had been raised and domed. The floor had been lowered in the middle, with steps rising to a platform a few inches below the imploder and the anomaly itself in the absolute centre of the room. The original walls were long gone and the room itself was now double the width and breadth that it had been. Around the sides of the room, on balcony style viewing platforms, were the computers that controlled and monitored different aspects of the anomaly and imploder. Connor himself sat at the master system that linked to all the others. From here, he could, if he chose, control and monitor every other computer in the room, as well as initiate an emergence shutdown of the anomaly if necessary. It was more a way of monitoring possible problems with the other computers than anything else, but Lester seemed to believe it made a statement that Connor was in charge. Between each computer, a military clad guard stood, watching the anomaly for any incursions. Each guard was a silent sentinel that made Connor feel even more uneasy in the room.

Still fifteen minutes to go.

Connor sighed and slumped back in the chair. The other computers were buzzing away happily, recording masses of information, while their attendants scoffed tea and chocolate biscuits in the next room, which had once been the kitchen. Now and again, the muffled sound of their conversations drifted through to Connor. He could have joined them, of course, but he wasn't in the mood. Instead he sighed and stared at the curving ceiling above him. He closed his eyes and tried to catch up on some of the sleep he'd missed since their arrival.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed, making him sit upright with a start. He shook his head and pulled the phone out of his pocket. Another message. He frowned and opened the text.

"Hey there, sleepy head. Better wake up. You don't want to miss the show!"

Connor blinked, shook his head and squinted at the screen. It didn't make sense. What show? And how did they know he had been dozing? He looked around, scrutinising each of the guards in turn. They hadn't moved. Not as far as he could see, anyway. Not while his eyes had been open, anyway. Any he hadn't really been a sleep, had he? So he would have heard them moving, wouldn't he?

He looked at the text details. It had been sent from a computer, from an internet site. One that anyone could access. Just like the other weird messages he'd received in London. But nobody had been anywhere near the computers in the room. Surely he would have heard them. He glanced at the timer on his screen. Twelve minutes to go. Not long enough to fall into a deep sleep. In fact, once you counted up the time he'd spent reading the message and trying to work it out, barely a minute could have passed from when he closed his eyes to his receiving the text. That was barely long enough for someone to log in, type a message and his details and send it.

Connor frowned. The more he thought about it, the weirder it got. Perhaps it was all just a case of mistaken identity, he thought. Just a coincidence that he'd had his eyes closed when the text arrived. Perhaps it was meant for someone else. Someone completely unrelated to him but with a similar mobile number. That would be it. Just a coincidence.

Connor closed the phone and slumped back in the chair, rubbing a hand over his eyes again. When he opened them, he looked at the screen in front of him. It showed the countdown timer for the sequence and a graph of anomaly activity from the start of the time. Just past the half-way point, there was a spike in the activity level. Connor sat forward and looked at the exact time of the spike. He frowned and opened his phone again, pulling up the message he had just received and scrolling down to the sender details. Suddenly he felt as if everything around him had ground to a halt. He stared at the time on the phone screen, then back at the one on the computer screen.

They were exactly the same.

That was too much of a coincidence.

XXXX

"Are we nearly there yet?"

"Just a few more miles," Helen replied, running her eyes over the man at her side. He was too busy driving to notice. That didn't bother her. "You should see a farm on the left with a large barn in the next field. You can pull in at the farm. We're expected."

"I thought you said the house was in a gully?"

"It is, but we'll be staying in the farmhouse. We don't know how long this will take, and we might not be welcome at the anomaly station."

"Are you sure we're doing the right thing?"

This time he turned to look at her. Helen smiled. Those clear blue eyes had always been one of his best features.

"Absolutely," she said. "Remember, we have history. They don't. They don't know what damage they might do with their experiments. We do."

"And you think they'll listen to me, rather than you?"

"Oh, most definitely. After our early... disagreements, they always treated me with suspicion. You, on the other hand, were someone they... looked up to."

The farm appeared on the left, just as Helen had said, and they drove into the yard. A military clad man opened the door before they reached it and Helen paused.

"This, my love," she said, turning to the blue-eyed man at her side, "is Bob. I hope you get on. You'll be seeing a lot of him now."

XXXX

"What ARE you doing?" Becker called, striding down the hill towards Kate.

"What does it look like?" Kate replied, vehemently scraping at an A-frame chalkboard with the stub of a piece of chalk. "I'm making a sign."

"Actually it looks like you're demolishing their supply of chalk," Becker quipped, stooping to pick up a handful of broken chalks that lay around Kate's feet. She was wearing sandals. "You're feet must be freezing."

"What?" Kate looked down, confused by the change of conversation. "Oh. No. I'm used to it. I never wear socks. Well, maybe if I have to wear wellies or something."

"What if there's snow?"

"Point one: that's when I'd be wearing wellies. Point two: I try to spend my winters somewhere snow free. The diving's great in the Med. at that time of year."

Becker rolled his eyes and stood up, depositing his collection of chalks on the tray under the chalkboard. He took in Kate's appearance. It was such a contradiction to his own: sandals instead of boots, pale blue pedal-pushers and a brightly coloured lace-up top instead of heavy black military uniform. Long, curly black hair that bounced freely in the breeze instead of the short, immobile crop that he wore. She was rash, impulsive, fiery and free-spirited. A complete and utter opposite to himself.

Eventually she finished scratching the sign on the board and stood back. Becker turned his gaze from Kate to the board and read the sign.

"What do you think?" Kate asked, oblivious to his previous scrutiny.

"Yep," Becker nodded, "that should do the trick."

"Good," Kate smiled.

"Only one problem."

"What?"

"That's not how you spell emergency."

XXXX

"Well?" Lester demanded as Abby entered the marquee that was serving as their temporary base.

"Well, it's another Ordovician one, we think," Abby replied. "At least that means we're not likely to be invaded by herds of anything large and dangerous."

"I thought that was what we said about the Silurian anomaly!"

"True, but we haven't found anything with legs here yet, or any sign of them. Just this weird, blue-green sludgy stuff growing on the altar stone below the actual anomaly."

"Is it dangerous?"

"Not as far as we know, no," Abby shrugged, "but I've never seen anything like it and we don't exactly have a botanist in our ranks."

"What? You want me to hire more staff? To do what, exactly: Start up the Chelsea Garden Show of the archaeological ages?" Lester snapped.

"It'll just take us a bit longer to work out what it is. We've taken some samples and they're on their way back to London. There are others being looked at in the field lab, but there's only so much we can do here."

"What do you expect them to find?" Lester threw up his hands. "It's green sludge. It's not the Day of the Triffids!"

XXXX

"And you're absolutely sure none of you sent this?" Connor waved the mobile phone, the offending text message still apparent on its screen.

"Absolutely," said Peta. "I'm the only one with your mobile number and I've been serving up tea and biscuits to this lot. We've all been in here. None of us have left the room."

"That means it has to be one of the guards."

"Hardly. The computers are all locked onto the monitoring program. You'd need one of our passes to access a site like that."

"Then what? Somebody sent me this text message at exactly the same time as the anomaly spiked without being in the same room as either me or the anomaly? That's way too much of a coincidence!"

"Not if they knew in advance that the anomaly was going to spike, and that you would be sleeping," Nigel cut in.

"I wasn't asleep," Connor said, defensively.

"Dozing then, whatever," Peta shrugged. "Nigel has a point though: we spend all day messing about with what is, in effect, a time machine. We should consider the possibility of other people doing the same."

"Other people, like who?" Connor asked, closing the phone. "The only other person, outside the ARC, who knows anything about these things is..." Connor's shoulders slumped. "Helen," he finished. "That woman turns up everywhere! She was after something when we were in Seahouses: the computer program for the imploder. Or me. That cleaner dude wanted me to switch sides and join them."

"Presumably for the same reason they wanted the imploder program," said Peta. "They're trying to control the anomalies, just like we are. Maybe they've succeeded."

"Or maybe someone will, anyway," said Nigel.

"What?" Peta and Connor asked in unison.

"It's a time machine," Nigel explained. "A naturally occurring one maybe, but still a time machine. Who's to say you didn't send that message yourself: a future you coming back in time to draw your attention to the spike in the anomaly activity. Maybe it's important."

Connor groaned.

"That sounds horribly like a paradox," he said. "And they make my head hurt!"

XXXX

"What does our resident Professor say about this sludge?" Lester asked Abby as he stared at the gloopy sample clinging to the sides of the glass tube and glowing faintly.

"He's taken a team through to see if he can find any more sample in their natural habitat."

"Ah, the joys. A team of armed and highly trained, not to mention highly paid, government soldiers hunting gunk. When will the excitement ever end?"

"He wanted to have a look around the environment the sludge came from. Mainly to see if there were any signs of land animals around the anomaly site."

"Well, I can't argue with that, I suppose. When will he be back?"

"He said he'd be no more than an hour."

"Oh goody."

XXXX

"The spike definitely came in at exactly the same time as the message," Nigel called. "All the other activity monitors confirm it. There was nothing else that changed at the same time, though."

"So we're still no further forward," Connor sighed.

"Not this time, no," said Peta. "But we run the closedown sequence in two minutes. After that, we can open the anomaly again and see if the same thing happens."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Then... I don't know. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

"Please tell me you've checked what's actually on the other side of that thing," said a voice.

Connor spun round. Nick Cutter was standing on the other side of the room, next to the external door.

"Professor!" Connor sputtered. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

"Lester seems to have everything under control, so I thought I'd come and see how you were doing."

"What did you mean about the anomaly?" Peta asked, frowning. "It's the Triassic one. The same one we went through with the nothosaurus, then had to reopen to try and Get Ms Lewis back. We've opened it numerous times and checked, it's always been the same on the other side. Why should it change now?"

"Well, something has, obviously," Nigel nodded. "The spike tells us that."

"Yeah, but that could even just have been the message arriving that caused that."

"No, we tried that: it didn't have the same effect."

Nick Cutter crossed the room and came to a stop next Connor.

"You're playing with fire with that thing," he said, pointing at the anomaly. "You have no idea what effect you're have, either on this world or the world it leads through to. You could be making these rips in time even worse, destabilising everything around us, every time you open and close that thing."

"Where is this coming from?" Connor stepped back, looking at Nick strangely.

"I just don't think we should be blithely playing with something we know so little about. One day it will turn round a bite us in the backside and we won't have a clue what to do about it!"

Turning on his heel, Nick Cutter stormed out of the room. Connor stood absolutely still for a few moments, shell-shocked.

"Well, I knew he wasn't keen on this project," said Peta, "but I didn't think he felt that strongly about it."

Outside the building, Nick Cutter walked away from Darwin House in the direction of the old bridge. When he got to the middle of the bridge, he turned to look back at the expensive, modern building.

"What was their reaction?" Helen asked, walking up to stand beside him on the bridge.

"The boy in charge seemed quite shocked, but the other one wasn't. The girl was somewhere in between. The one in charge seemed more shocked to see me there though. What did you say his name was? Connor, or something?"

"He looks up to you, my love," said Helen, nodding in answer to Nick's question. "That's important. We need him on our side if our plan is going to work."

"To save the future," Nick nodded.

"And save it from ourselves," added Helen.

~Fini~

(The story continues in part 4: "Oh, You Pretty Things". Coming soon!)


	12. Series 4

Episode 2 in my Primeval Series 4 is now up!

Look for **Primeval Series 4: Episode 2: He Ain't Heavy**

If you haven't already read the first episode, look for **Primeval Series 4: Episode 1: MIA**


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